Wicked the Good
by Knife-Ear
Summary: Elphaba finds herself dreaming of the past. Glinda is entranced by the horizon line. And all of Oz has broken out in terrible war. Will these two women be able to bring about a calm or will Elphaba meet a permanent end? (Mostly bookverse and clearly Gelphie)
1. Well, Where are your wings?

The sun finally began to dip below the hills just outside Kiamo Ko. Elphaba, who was perched upon the stone windowsill, watched the last scratch of sunlight melt into the horizon. The cold, grey stone lost its brightened tint and died like every night with a harsh and ugly paleness. The green woman inhaled the bitter scent of the dried landscape but found no relief in the lack of calm nor the action. How she craved for a change of scenery. A trip out to Quadling Country. Maybe Rush Margins. But at last she would only grip the chipped broom handle, wringing her calloused hands against it impatiently. It wasn't as if she was waiting on anyone here. All of Fiyero's family had perished mercilessly because of her existence. Much like Fiyero himself…

There was however something different tonight. She had taken her broom out. She had bother to dawn on her traveling cloak and ruffle the collar to cover the evergreen of her neck while her raven hair camouflaged her face. Elphaba knew the exact reason that had caused such a need for escape. It was a phrase that this morning was lost in Chistery's gibberish. Through the years he had indeed improved but with virtually no one to talk to, he wasn't learning anything new. Liir had followed the soldiers upon her "death" and sometime later had made a quiet retreat to the afterlife. That was years ago. It appeared to Elphaba that as soon as she had chosen not to travel anywhere following the third anniversary of her death, that everyone locally was slipping out of her grasp. Not that she wasn't expecting it and not that she particularly cared, it was simply coincidental if she believed in such coincidences.

But the phrase Chistery had nonchalantly repeated over the hours on his chores. "Hold out…"

Amongst all the madness in his words she had unmistakably heard him say it. Moments after the shock had past when she had heard it for the sixth time, the monkey proclaimed a name that she so missed the ring to. "Glinda, Miss-miss Glinda. Hold out."

This was the statement that gnawed at the emerald woman who hadn't heard of the blonde in quite a few years. She remembered the celebrations of her death, at the beginning she want to know the information of her demise. But the maybe another part yearned to see her old roommate past what was depicted in the churches. She had for many had for many reasons never asked for Fiyero to spill the blonde's life no matter how it dug into her stomach. After their kiss in the Emerald City she simply wanted ti swallow the feelings that resurfaced with every dreams of their travels together. Finally it clicked in her ever working mind.

She must be speaking in her sleep. Elphaba could guarantee she had never spoken of her time with Glinda but somehow the monkey knew the exact words that pulled at her heart. Upon this realization she came upon another. She needed to see Glinda again. Needed to know she was not decaying as she had feared these many years. The last glimpse she had captured of the woman was her descent into Munchkinland to once more retell the story of the Wicked's death, a story that Elphaba herself found very enlightening. Saint Glinda on the third year appeared to be worn. Her face was caked in make up that not many would notice. Her voice had pitched to cover the shake and unnerved feeling of sadness. Had Elpahab no recounted the lies the old Galinda would tell she would have never noticed these signs. But hidden amongst the shadows of the crowd she watched the aging woman twist under the scrutiny of the public while they tossed buckets to the sky and flooded the memorial fountain with a green dye of some sort.

Indeed Elphaba had worried for the blonde but not so much so as to give away her current state of life. No matter how dull that life now was. Shad managed over the dreary time in Kiamo Ko aid in the Animals freedom secretly and luckily those same Animals had kept the Gale Force at bay. It had been quite some time since she had even laid eyes on the green and gold uniforms which were astoundingly easy to spot in the mid day sun.

Silently she slipped back inside the tower, her ratty skirt catching the edge of the stone sill. It was so thin with time and wear that it took no effort for it to rip. A grunt of pure frustration from Elphaba roused Chistery from his small curled position beside the doorway leading to the decaying staircase back into the main hall. The small unnatural monkey shook himself to, in a sense, bust away the weariness sleep had filled his aging limbs with. The stone flooring did not twist or shift well under neither his wings nor the impossible to control tail in which he now had a habit of stroking. He waddled the short distance to his mistress and waited at her feet for some form of acknowledgement, to which he received none.

No, Elphaba was focused off in her mind as she scanned the darkening sky. Her bare and cracked feet padded against the cold floor as she paced before the window her broom firm in hand. She mumbled incoherently the impossible thoughts that swam in her mind. Was she willing to risk this for a glimpse of the woman? What was this life but a cage? She had lost all true sense of time and social standards (to which she had few anyway) while she resided in Kiamo Ko. Though what was the point her upholding to social law now? Any being in Oz is immediately threatened by her presence and since her death that fear has grown ten fold. Finally she shook the questions from her mind.

"We're leaving…" she spoke flatly to the monkey without breaking contact with the horizon. And in that moment, emerald met with Western sky.


	2. No lilies upon her Grave

Gentle moonlight flickered between thick curtains as dainty pale fingers spread them just a mere inch apart. Enough so that no one might recognize Saint Glinda hopelessly dreaming but yet enough for her to see the greenery of Munchkinland. She would never admit it out loud but it screeched loud enough in her mind, she was hopelessly tired. But no matter how comforting the sheets around her were they wouldn't hold as she longed to be comforted. Sleep would not come. When she laid her head upon those pillows, soft and hazy memories filled her head. Days long passed some many years; it gave her shivers to think about. With a regrettable sigh Glinda retreated back to the wide and plush bed that for hours had been ignored.

The dazzling sky felt bare and hollow. A trip in bubble became a hassle and wearing task. It was if she had seen the world (which she had) and grown bored and tiresome of men bickering like children. The dark night sky was a seamless blue dotted and glazed with firefly stars and yet not a trace of what she was truly looking for.

Glinda shivered against the cold sheets but sank nevertheless into the mattress. Hollers of joy could be heard from down below the window as defiantly she tried to ignore the celebrations. As time passed, as the years went on, the tale grew more poisonous on her tongue. At first it would drop in her stomach the same, as it had always been when she told a childish lie. She knew somewhere she could _feel_ that her old roommate was alive. Elphaba simply had to be. As if the sun itself had to shine or the flowers bloom in the spring. But always time wore on…with little and finally no hope to cross paths with her old friend.

Glinda had hoped that Fiyero might have had some more luck in finding the impossible emerald woman. That gave her the hope to continue through with her marriage, She had hoped against everything that Fiyero had indeed found her, had told her, had begged her to give Glinda the least bit satisfaction of her safety. Well, maybe not safe…but alive.

In the end she heard the news the same as everyone else. 'The wicked witch is dead' the calls could be heard all across Oz as children were woken and fanfare was blasted. A small girl had murdered Elphaba and Glinda had let it happen. Glinda in her own twisted way had caused it…

Bitter and burning tears slid down the blonde's cheeks and she didn't even bother to wipe them. She let them fall. Let the overpowering burning overcome her sense as she stared blankly to the far white wall. Glinda couldn't even begin to remember how long it had been since she had cried over Elphaba because certainly her abandonment hadn't been the last. No, but it had been the trigger. She can remember vividly watching the emerald woman become distant and melt seamlessly into the bustling crowd. Her lips tingled for hours after words as the thought finally sake in that it was the last time she would have kissed her. Or would have been kissed by her.

Miss Glinda choked on her sobs as a terrible rage she couldn't quite grasp filled her. The shouts in the town grew as small fires lit the alleys. Why every year the celebrations grew fiercer? Glinda chucked a pillow at the far wall which erupted into a rain of feathers. She had half a mind, truly half a mind, to go out there and proclaim her love's innocent. That she was no more Wicked than they were or even she. In fact she was far more kind than anything Glinda could hope to achieve but it was by perception, by ignorant views she lost everything. And it made her shudder to think she had once agreed.

In a fit of dying tears the aging would curled herself up like she had as a teenager. Her knees were brought to her chest while her hair, that she struggled to tame each morning to fit 'what was proper', creating a curtain around her face plastered to the wetness remaining on her face.

"You aren't coming back to me, are you?" Glinda whispered to the chilly air, almost afraid of an answer.

Following her trip to the Emerald City, after Elphaba had sent her on her way, Glinda found herself calling out absently to Elphaba. She didn't hope to have an answer. But it did deflate her hope a little bit more every time she didn't receive one anyway. For years she had simply gave up entirely on speaking out when alone. It just became too painful. The small release of addressing the emerald woman in the dark had become less of a release and altogether too much of a reminder.

Bright firelight lit the sky as pleasure faithers took out to the streets using the celebrations as a magicked event. The irony of the term 'witch', Glinda thought bitterly. Through the thin crack of the curtains small lights of all colors flooded the room. The crowds grew louder as they came closer to the center of the city where the massive town fountain stood. Vials of dye were poured in and men of all statures made speeches while Fathers rose their children up on their shoulders to watch. During the day this had gone on in lesser fashions, normally more civil, but now at night the men had time to drink, to think, and to let their own hatred starve them mad.

As a barrell of light came closer to the window, Glinda took hold of the building anger in the pit of her stomach and rose from the bed. She drew back the curtains and look down to the cobbled street where scattered stumbling men still raised buckets or burning brooms. HEr anger was faltering as she looked closer to the mens' faces. They honestly believed in every lie told to them. How were they to believe any different? Why didn't they believe any different? The stone of her balcony was cold against her feet but she leaned out over the railing anyway.

"Well I say we go and we burn down the castle! Tear down that ugly reminder!" A rather chunky munchkin shouted over the gathering crowd of men. Children were corralled back into beds while the men left out their doors to listen to the madman. THe munchkin stood atop the limestone lip of the fountain, soaked from head to toe.

"Those Winkies should be ashamed of hiding that devil. So I say we go! Tonight!"

There were cheers of argument and to Glinda relief even some disagreement amongst a few. She could feel the build of power in herself as the same need rose to defend Elphaba's persecution. Her fists had balled in at her sides as she watched the crowd split between the drunken fighters and the ones who had heard enough. Those that left the gathering were branded cowards and were given more reason to step down. GLinda's feet left balcony and gasps silenced all the demands.

"Ozians…" Her voice wavered as she came down to their level, she cleared it before speaking. "Goodness had overcome, has it not? Is there such a need for violence or would you delve yourself into such wickedness as to desecrate a tower, that yes at one point was a political home. The wizard himself had been welcomed in such a-"

"The Wicked have already desecrated it! I say we have-"

"That is enough." GLinda did not yell but the threat was evident nonetheless. She stared down towering over the man who had was the cause of all the rowdiness. "You have had your day of celebrations and disturbed not only my rest but that of the children here as well. It is no longer required that you celebrate at such hours. For Oz's sakes its morning!"

She looked over the crowd of sunken faces who waited patiently for her to continue. To what end she wasn't sure but the waited on demands. "Please. Go home. Go to bed. THink with a clearer head in the morning and I promise you, you will all lose this animalistic need to destroy Kiamo Ko. Has it not seen enough terror?"

There was a slight murmur throughout the crowd. With drooping shoulders the munchkin who was beside Glinda, stepped down from his pedestal and made his way through the crowd, to his home. After a few moments the crowd began to follow. Slowly the dispersed and meandered back into to their house. The street lost all light besides the dimming glow of the moon, but Glinda still remained. Her knees shook and in hopes of not collapsing entirely she sat up on the stone sill of the fountain. In the reflection she could barely make out her outline against the darkened sky. But she could see the moon. A small smile graced her lips as she drew her fingertips along the reflection creating a ripple. The shining green moon focused before her eyes. More soft ripples followed as silent tears fell into the pool. THe world was silent for that one moment and a calm had settled over Glinda that she hadn't felt in so long. Not since the last time she had stroked the same green.

When finally her body demanded she return to her own resting, she stood and crossed back into the large townhouse that was her residence in Munchkinland. And at the spot where she had made a stand for her love, atop the small fountain ridge, laid a fine white rose.


	3. No Place like Home

Gilkin peaked over the lighting horizon as Elphaba took quickly to the ground, or rather the tree tops. The land surrounding the fine city had all the pleasantries one could ask for in a vacation. Hills to the west, mountains in the skyline, forests as far as one could imagine to the east. And on the outskirts of the city a pure river that snaked through Oz but left the corruption out of its waters. No wonder Glinda had grown up beautiful. With such surrounds on could only absorb it through some escape. It was certainly nothing like the drought ridden valley of Rush Margins or her most known home, the swamps of Quadling Country. With the rise of the sun the chill of the night melted away but Elphaba still brought her cloak tighter to herself.

Beside her falling in a heap of dried dirt, fell her faithful Chistery. He looked about absently as if confused of what had happened, but quickly gathered himself. With small sounds from his throat he collected at Elphaba's skirts and looked out to the foreign city. He whimpered loudly in into her cloak and tugged gently at the base.

"Don't be so childish." whispered Elphaba, who never took her eyes from the glittered tops of the mansions, but patted the small Animal's head.

Inside one of the finest and most forefront estates, Glinda was surrounded in her riches but wandered her halls aimlessly. Guards snapped at a seemingly working position as she drew near but she walked by with a small graceful smile. She wasn't clothed in overly fine ball gowns or her known dresses of travel and awe, but instead she clothed lighter and freer almost scandalously so. If she hadn't a fair face or a fine form one might consider her a queer man who dressed in outlandish colors. But this was all irrelevant to how Glinda, now, thought when she was alone.

The trip home from Munchkinland had gone on without a hitch much to Glinda's disappointment. Danger and mystery, these things she long missed and often in her travels would she drift back into memories of a slim darkly clothed arm circling over her shoulders while she surveyed her suspicious passengers who were more than put off by how she stroked a green palm. How seamlessly her fingers caught between-

"Lady Glinda."

Glinda was immensely startled, her hand instantly taking to her chest as she tried to refocus on not screaming. "Sweet Oz…"

"I'm sorry would prefer I called you something else? Saint Glinda perhaps? Titles and such. I think they are rather pointless."

It took her a long moment to come to terms with the strange rambling and found the man speaking was nothing more than her personal bodyguard. One she personally trusted a great deal more than half of the men standing in uniforms across the grounds.

"You must be facing some memory problems today, Eiodin. I'd much rather you call me Glinda."

Eiodin cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes. Glinda. Though I hardly feel it is very proper for a woman such as-"

Glinda smiled softly, "Myself to want such a simple address."

"Yes."

She wanted so very badly to laugh but her smile only grew. This was often her starting conversations with Eiodin. She assumed it was because he was grateful to be hired at all as it still became hard for Animals to find a workplace though she has tried many times over (in respect of Elphaba no less) to add some equality back to the people. He often repeated himself and took great joy in speaking in long sentences, not for the sake of hearing his own voice (though Glinda could be led to believe otherwise), but fear he wouldn't be able to by morning.

Eiodin for a very long moment waited for her to speak again with his hooves clasped finely in front of him. However Glinda could find little to nothing to say. It wasn't always like this. And for her sake, he hoped it wouldn't last for much longer. He had indeed missed her liveliness. As Glinda rounded down the stairs in the main hall, Eiodin called to her. "Welcome back home, Lady Glinda."

Glinda stopped at the base of the stairs and sighed stroking the finely carved wood with her fingertips, "I haven't been home in such a very long time Eiodin."

Out in the middle of a small clearing, which was once home to a fallen tree, a rickety shack tilted slightly. Elphaba shared a rare smile with herself as she touched the small leaves that dipped off branches. Her hue was a shade or two lighter having only been out on the grounds at night and by day shrouded in a tower. Chistery was already across the field staring up at the small hole in the tree top canopies. He played happily in the grass and rolled in it, making small hills in bountiful green. It wasn't until the sharp sound of wood slapping wood did he freeze up. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood raised as he bared his teeth.

"Horrors…" he whispered.

Elphaba crossed past him drawing her cloak up to mask her face. The wind caught the back of the shack rolling the door that swung loosely on one hinge to clang loudly with the structure. Almost embarrassed for being startled Elphaba instantly dropped the mask and stared at Chistery. "Horrors…? Chistery it's only-"

The monkey came barrelling past her squealing his attack. With a heavy collision Chistery crashed inside the house clinging and tossing with something in the dark. The door fell to the earth with a puff of dirt while Elphaba waited out the monkey. In a matter of minutes Chistery was slapping the ground in joy and, following the quiet command of his mistress, he waddled out. A sigh of either disgust or immense displeasure gave Chistery the hint to suck the squirming tail of a small rodent into his mouth quickly.

"Gone."

Glinda in a very uncharacteristic manner chose to dine alone for the night. Eiodin had led her planned guest of many out for the night with a claim that the Good Saint was very traumatized by the vicious murder and sacrifice of her people in Munchkinland to attend to such a formal gathering on short notice. Though in truth he knew that this event had been longed plan and was practically annual now. Oh well, traditions were meant to be broken.

The always fine light in her room died as the embers in her fireplace dimmed and she finally blew out the candle beside her bed stand. Her curtains were drawn wide open and she could see beyond the front gates where the guards were changing shifts for the last time until dawn. She could easily pick out the young from the old, those that had finally hardened with battle and public torment under the Wizards rule.

"_I am OZ, the Great and Terrible…" _

A shiver ran up Glinda's spine and she departed quickly from her room. High windows along seemingly never ending corridors brought fine blue light upon her red carpet. She never did like the heavy thick color it was. It had been Sir Chuffery's choice. And it was something she needed to rectify soon.

Her and silken nightgown brushed at her knees as she held to herself tightly, wandering aimlessly. She knew the lay out well. She knew she needed to sleep. But she also_ knew_ that something wasn't right. All day and all evening something wasn't right. Something was almost….heavy. A burden? A promise? She was forgetting something. But the more she tried to focus on what that something was her mind would allow her glimpses. Sounds. Words. _Hold out, my sweet…._

Glinda grew angry with herself. She stared out an open window that left a gently breeze into the manor. A window she hadn't remembered opening. The wide expanse of the sky was all she could capture in her vision. _You're a seasoned traveller now Glinda. _

Soft footsteps met with the fur lined rug in gentle pads of sound.

"Eiodin I'll be fine. Go back to bed."

But there was no answer. No more footsteps. Just the gentle whistling of wind against the willow trees below. Glinda shivered at the chill of it. A warm hand was brought to her shoulder the heat sparking against the patches of bare skin her nightgown had not covered. She gasped at the suddenness and if not gentleness of such a touch. IT was a not a hoof.

"And so the beauty does remain…"


End file.
